


something like hope

by Katbelle



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Engagement, F/M, Light Angst, M/M, Marriage Proposal, POV Second Person, Possibly Unrequited Love, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 08:08:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17158373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katbelle/pseuds/Katbelle
Summary: You regret a lot of things in your life. The question is, do you regret telling him 'no'?





	something like hope

**Author's Note:**

  * For [94BottlesOfSnapple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/94BottlesOfSnapple/gifts).



> Happy holidays! Whew, that was difficult. But I loved the song! Written for [Vienna Teng - Stray Italian Greyhound](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QLySk3i4dFI).

**something like hope**

_Remember, Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies._  
Shawshank Redemption

 

"So, what do you think?"

Karen waves her hands excitedly and she must be smiling, because Foggy laughs, loud and happy, the sound rich. Just hearing that makes you grin.

"What do you expect us to say?" Foggy asks, chuckling. "It's our old office."

"Exactly!" Karen twirls around the empty space once, twice. "It's conveniently placed. It's not bad, especially now that the previous tenants put some work into it. _And_ it's dirt cheap."

"Dirt is not cheap, Karen, have you been living under a rock?"

Karen punches Foggy's arm affectionately. "You know what I mean."

And yes, they know. You've been searching for a suitable locale for Nelson, Murdock & Page for weeks now – the Nelsons have graciously let them use the space above the shop, but they can't stay there forever, and you are tired of having all your documents smell like ham – and this offer was the best they found. Or, Karen found. She didn't tell you it was _this_ place initially; she sold it as an opportunity, as a great refurbished space. Only on your way here had you realized where you were going.

You press your palm to the wall next to the door which once led to Foggy's office. "It's perfect, Karen."

"I don't know," Foggy says. He sounds truly unsure, and dubious, and it hurts, but isn't surprising. "This place has a lot of baggage. A lot of history for us."

"Not all of it was bad," you point out. Though a lot was. "It could be good for us. Pick up where we left off, but make it _better_."

Karen comes to stand next to you, shoulder to shoulder, silently supporting your idea, supporting you. She crosses her arms over her chest and sticks her chin out, and Foggy's heart skips a beat and--

"Alright," he says, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, let's do it. Attempt number two, redux."

Karen claps her hands and you grin, and you both flock to Foggy. Foggy allows you to pat his shoulder, but Karen he high-fives before hugging her tightly.

***

It's all different, now. It takes you a little time to figure out what is it, exactly, that has changed, but there's no point denying that it did. It would be so easy to say that it's all changed with Midland Circle – because that is the moment when he lost you, and it's been him and Karen ever since – but that's not it. It all started earlier. You've lost him way before Midland Circle.

You're trying to find your way back together, both of you are – and it takes effort, and it takes honesty, and you're good with the former, but terrible at the latter. But that's what it's going to take – that's what Foggy told you with his words, and his heart told you that he meant it. There is no place for you in this partnership if you can't _be_ partners, and – having observed Karen and Foggy together during your stay over the butcher shop – you know that they'd do fine without you. Hell, they've already _done_ well without you, one at a respectable law firm, the other at a respectable newspaper, and you didn't even have to be dead for them to move on like that. They don't actually need you so you have to work hard to make sure they _want_ you. 

At least as much as you want them.

As you want _him_.

"We should do a double date," Foggy suggests one evening.

"Nope," Karen shoots him down immediately, not even glancing up from the files she's looking over.

Foggy is undeterred. "Come on," he argues. "It would be fun. We could go to that cute Italian restaurant near my place, Marci would be happy, I'd finally get to meet your mysterious boyfriend..."

Karen throws a pen at him. "Not going to happen."

Foggy turns to you. "Matt, you talk to her. She has a guy. She's been hiding the guy from us. There must be something wrong with him." Foggy _oooohs_ dramatically, one long vowel and an exhale at the end, "I bet he's _fake_."

Karen raises her head, then turns it, dips her chin, all the while radiating pity. "What are we, ten?"

"Karen has a made-up boyfriend," Foggy sing-songs and that earns him a folder to the head. "Ouch."

"Foggy does have a point, though," Karen says, completely ignoring him. "We should all go out somewhere. Perhaps even with Marci, she's been of great help and is going to be a part of the family anyway."

Foggy groans. You have a distinct impression that Karen is grinning, smiling wide and happy, and that she's sharing some knowledge that you aren't privy to. You frown. "Part of the family? What am I missing?"

"I might have kind of accidentally proposed to Marci," Foggy explains and your blood turns ice cold.

***

You try to reason with yourself: feeling possessive is not an unnatural thing. Marci is a foreign element. Foggy is your best friend. Foggy is your partner. You just got him back, you just got him to accept you back, and now Marci comes in, all amazing and perfect and has always been there and has no history of lying and being unreliable.

The thing is, Foggy is _your_ better half.

That's something you've always said, most of the time as a joke, in half of those cases while more than tipsy. Didn't change the fact that it was true. Foggy was the best friend you've ever had, and Foggy was yours. Even Elektra recognized the depth and importance of your connection. She'd call you idiot-crossed lovers. She'd call you boyfriends. Once, and that was a memorable evening, once she called you boyfriends while both of you were there. You laughed, of course. It was a ridiculous notion. Foggy laughed with you.

He wasn't laughing when he asked you, some months later and after Elektra had left, what your reaction would be if it weren't ridiculous. You dismissed him, then, and he never asked again. The following semester, he found Marci.

The idiot was you.

You've buried Elektra's body months ago and you've buried her memory more recently. You're not sure if she survived Midland Circle; after all, you did, and she was already dead at the time so it would have been easier. You know you didn't get out of there yourself. You'd like to think it was her, utilizing the remnants of her humanity. Perhaps there was something left of the woman you once loved in her, but not enough to stay. All the better; now you see that there wasn't enough for you to keep loving her.

You've been in love with a ghost, a memory from another time. Only fitting that now you be in love with another person who might not exist anymore.

***

Marci doesn't like you. 

Marci has never liked you to begin with, but whatever Foggy told her about your disappearance – and subsequent return – made her despise you even more.

"You disappear for months and let people think you're dead?" she asks when they all go out for drinks one night. "Classy, Murdock. Conscience letting you live?"

Not really, but you don't need to tell her that. You merely smile and sip your tonic vodka. Marci taps her perfectly manicured fingers on the table, and you imagine her grimace. She's not happy that you didn't take the bait. She's not happy that you're here.

The silence that follows is anything but comfortable.

"So," Karen starts, trying to dispel the awkwardness, "what are your plans now?"

Foggy and Marci look at each other. Foggy's head moves imperceptibly back, it always does when he rolls his eyes. Marci's fingers, meanwhile, find their way into Foggy's short hair. You don't like the short hair, you miss his old hairdo, the long hair that would smell strongly of strawberry shampoo any time he'd pass by you.

"I'm going to stay at Chao & Benowitz," Marci replies, "seeing as Foggy-bear is determined not to get paid."

"We're doing good work," Foggy tells her, but his voice if fond. It's clear that it's an argument they've had a lot of times.

"Yes, and lucky for you, I'm with you for your heart and morals, not the contents of your wallet."

Karen coos and you force yourself to laugh, all the while thinking that if you hadn't screwed up one thing too many, you could have been sitting in Marci's spot.

***

You realize that it's a cliché to end all clichés, being peripherally in love with your best friend.

It's something that took you a long time to realize, but – upon reflection – surprisingly little time to happen. Sister Mary used to say that people are always very knowledgeable about other, but utterly blind about themselves. You always fancied yourself above that – your senses helped you perceive the world in ways that were unavailable to anyone else. You thought you had people worked out, including yourself.

Wrong.

It's impossible to pinpoint one moment when you fell in love with Foggy. You might have skipped the 'in love' stage altogether, in fact, and went straight to loving him more than you've ever loved anyone else. Or maybe it wasn't a moment; perhaps it was a process, a whole string of moments that made you fall in love with him imperceptibly more every time, but it wasn't until your heart overflowed that you saw it and realized it. It took even longer to admit.

You _can_ pinpoint that moment, though. The moment he whipped up a new napkin in his brother's shop and he wrote all your names on it and declared that that was a future he wanted. With you. And with Karen. At that moment, you felt like you could cry. You felt like you could laugh. You did a little bit of both and thought to yourself, _God, I love him_.

You didn't think much of it until Karen calmly told you that whatever it was between you is done, it's over, and all you felt was _relief_ that it was and you wouldn't have to break her heart. You didn't think much of it until you've found out about all the things that happened in your absence, until you've found out Foggy no longer lived where he used to and until Marci opened the door when you came to visit him.

All tiny things, stacked one on top of the other around your heart, toppling eventually to reveal how raw it is underneath it all.

***

"Matt, I need your advice, buddy," Foggy calls you from his office one day, "could you come here?"

Your body moves before your mind has made the decision to grant him his request. Of course it does. He's Foggy, you're Matt. You have a lot to make up for.

"What is it, Fog?" you ask as you enter his office. You can hear his heart beating too fast, his breathing shallow, and you could swear you can smell the nervousness radiate from him. He's anxious about something and that alarms you. You flip through your mental calendar, but there aren't any meetings you've skipped, court dates you've forgotten, or big lies you've told. You don't see how this could be about you.

Foggy swallows thickly. "I need to run something by you, okay?"

Still nervous. Sweating now. "Sure, Foggy."

Foggy takes a breath. One of his hands slips into his pocket and he takes out a small box. He takes a step towards you and then – and _God_ , your heart jumps up and gets stuck somewhere in your throat – drops to one knee in front of you.

"I've been waiting for a good moment," Foggy says and completely misses the fact that you _can't breathe_ , "and I don't think a better one will ever come. I love you. I love you _so much_ , and I can't imagine my life without you. I don't want to live my life without you. You make me smile, you make me laugh, you inspire me and make me a better man every day. I want to make you happy for as long as I live, and for as long as you'll let me. Please. Will you marry me?"

You're gaping. If there wasn't a door behind you, you would have already collapsed because your legs feel like they're made of jelly. That--that can't be happening. It's one thing that Foggy had a crush on you in law school and that you've crushed his hopes in return. It's one thing to be uncertainly, peripherally, but deeply in love with your best friend. It was another to be proposed to when a moment ago you still thought you were working on repairing your friendship.

"I--" You choke on your own words.

Foggy shakes his head and stands up. "Too much?" You move your mouth but no sound comes out, like a fish out of water. You're glad for your glasses because without them, he'd see your eyes bulging. "Yeah, Karen said the same. And that I should definitely drop the 'please' because Marci senses weakness."

"... What?"

"Yeah, I still need to work on that." Foggy scratches his head. "I have everything prepared, it's her birthday next week, I have a restaurant ready, flowers, a ring," he shakes the box he's holding, "but none of that will matter if I won't know what to say."

"I--I think it was beautiful," you manage. "I would have said yes."

"Really?" Foggy asks, and the tone of hopefulness cuts deep. "Well, that's something. Your tastes are almost as fancy-shmancy as Marci's."

You force a smile. "Is there anything I could help you with, buddy?" Your best friend is going to propose to his girlfriend. In a few years it might very well turn out that you've just offered to help the love of your life propose to his girlfriend.

Foggy clasps your shoulder. "There's gonna be plenty to do if she says 'yes'."

***

A week later you get a text.

SHE SAID YES!!!

You resist the urge to throw your phone across the room and dictate heartfelt congratulations instead.

***

You're asked to be the best man, which is a great honour that you would gladly pass over to Theo, but can't, because Foggy chose you over his own brother and that's got to mean something.

Karen brings a bottle of cheap champagne to the office to celebrate a one month anniversary of the engagement. "To Foggy and Marci," she raises a glass in a toast, "and their happy marriage, which is now definitely going to happen considering that she hasn't broken it off in the last thirty days."

"Hear, hear." Foggy clinks his glass against hers. "I still can't believe it. And there's so much to _do_."

"Don't worry," you assure him, "Karen and I are going to make sure it's all perfect."

***

You throw yourself into planning. You love Foggy and he loves Marci, and he chose Marci, so the least you could do as his best friend is to ensure that he gets all that he wants and then some. All that he deserves, and he deserves the best for all those years of putting up with shit.

And if it's a special kind of torture, seeing him happy with someone else, well, you've brought it on yourself and it's nothing you don't deserve.

***

You often forget how smart Marci is.

It's a party you and Karen organized for Foggy's and Marci's families. You think it's all going smoothly and is perfect, and you get congratulated by every single member of the Nelson clan. Somewhere to your right, you hear Foggy talking about you – proudly – with Marci's parents.

You get a drink, because this is all too much.

"This is some next level of martyrdom," Marci comments as she stops next to you. "Even for you."

This time, your heart drops into your stomach and your stomach somewhere between your knees. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Marci observes you quietly. "It means that he only chose me because you blew him off." She taps her glass. "I should probably thank you for that."

You take a sip and try for a casual tone. "You're welcome." You fail miserably.

She shrugs. "It's no fun when you regret that." She points her well-manicured finger at your head. "You should work on your face, Murdock. You look like you're ready to kill me."

***

The question is, do you regret it?

You regret a lot of things in your life. You're probably going to end up regretting a lot more. Befriending Foggy is not one of them. Leaving him, disappointing him – yes. You regret rejecting him _for you_ , and that's something you'll always regret and will just have to live with.

But for Foggy? You don't regret it when you think of him. You're a bad partner material. You're impulsive. Angry, violent. You make bad decisions daily, you risk your life all the time. You come back home beaten up and bleeding. One day you're not going to come back. That's not something Foggy needs in a boyfriend or a husband, it's something he barely tolerates in his best friend. So, no. You don't regret that. What Foggy deserves is tact and class and intelligence and glamour of someone like Marci. That's what Foggy needs in a girlfriend or a wife. Someone to make him better, every day.

You only make him angry and miserable, and sometimes you make him cry.

***

"I was thinking," you say at the office, "we could do something fun during the weekend. Together. You know, like old times. Go play pool. Get smashed and watch terrible films on Netflix. It's been ages since we just hung out together."

"Mhm," Foggy hums and it's clear that he's not listening to you. "What was that?"

"Let's hang out during the weekend."

Foggy clicks his tongue. You imagine that he looks apologetic. "Sorry," he says and sounds like he means it, "can't. We're going to Denver with Marci's parents, we're going to the theatre and then to meet some extended family in the mountains."

"Ah." You grab a nearby pen just to fiddle with it, it gives you an excuse to focus on something other than Foggy. "Maybe next weekend."

"Yes," Foggy's voice took on a more excited note, that perked him up. "Next weekend for sure."

You'd like to be mad or sad or jealous. You are all those things, but you're also grateful to Marci that she gives Foggy something you'd never be able to. Love. Family. Certainty and stability. Safety. Hope. And that is good. And perhaps that will be enough.

***

You're watching Netflix alone and still waiting for that pizza you've ordered an hour ago when you hear a knock on your door. Took their damn time. You get off the couch and walk to the door, and you can't smell pizza, but you can smell expensive cologne and that distinct smell of La Guardia airport. You open the door.

"Had a mad argument with Marci and her mother," Foggy explains. He doesn't even announce himself; he takes it for granted that you knew he was there. "They went to Denver alone. Can I come in?"

You take a step back to let him pass. "The pizza is an hour late."

"Bummer."

Foggy drops his coat on the floor and heads straight to the kitchen. You hear him open the fridge and search through its contents, then you hear it close. A hiss of a beer bottle being opened. Ah.

You go back to the couch and wait for him to join you. Normally he opts for the armchair, but tonight must have especially bad, because he sinks onto the couch next to you. You're silent for a moment as he drinks your beer and you try to think of reasons why Foggy might have fought with Marci's mum. You come up empty.

"What happened?" you ask.

"Had a fight with Marci's mum," Foggy repeats. "Matt, it was _bad_."

You shake your head. "Why would you fight with Marci's mum? She seemed a perfectly nice person."

"Not so much." Foggy drains the rest of the beer, but doesn't put the bottle away. He twiddles with it, most likely to avoid having to look at you. "We fought about you, actually."

You raise your brows. You? Why you? Your existence has no bearing on Foggy and Marci's life. "Me?" She must have been desperate for a fight then."

"Most of the stuff she said doesn't bear repeating," Foggy tells the bottle. "Marci warned me that her mother was mean and bigoted, but wow. Surpassed all my expectations."

"And then what?"

"And then Marci had a few things to say about you, too," Foggy says, still not facing Matt. It's beginning to be awkward. Like options are being weighed and decisions being made, and you have no idea what's going on. "She told me not to get on the plane."

"And?"

"And I didn't."

Foggy's slumped on your sofa, shoulders hunched, and he gives sadness and confusion off in waves. You want to reach out, to pull him into a hug and tell him that it'll be alright, you want to kiss him and tell him that you're here and that you're not going anywhere this time. You don't do any of those things. You're not sure if you're back in a place where such open gestures of affection would be accepted, and the best you can hope for now in terms of your hopeless love for Foggy is that he is happy with someone else.

He and Marci had a fight. So what. You and Foggy have had plenty of fights and always found your way back together. You're certain Marci will be back in New York tomorrow. She'd be an idiot not to.

Foggy puts the bottle away. You hear him take a deep breath, and he finally turns to face you. He smells like salt – must have been crying – and his heart is beating fast, a nervous rhythm that makes you feel like something important is happening.

"I didn't," Foggy repeats, and you can feel his gaze on you, and you can feel the expectation both in it and in his voice, "I didn't get on the plane."


End file.
